Is that still you?
by Ashes of Stars
Summary: Harry's heartstrings are pulled over a less than human Draco whom Harry buys and until true love is found, Draco will be cursed with servitude. HPDM seriously, Post HBP, unfluffic slash.
1. Rare and Relish

"Is that you?" I asked casually to the groggy figure, dressed in once black-now grey clothes, that stood before me taking my order for a fresh batch of figgery cloves.

"What do you mean Potter?" The man asked, "Of course its me, now if you please; can you pay and get the hell out of here?"

I reeled at the older version of the Draco I had last seen atop the tower. I opened my big mouth to say something, but before any syllables were uttered I heard a rather nasty, pointed voice shout from a far corner, "Now Draco, don't be so rude to our customers! Or you will loose your meagre job!"

I halted. How dare someone talk to another human being like that? It was un-just and impolite, especially in front of another person. Then it hit me; Vernon, Petunia, Dudley, Voldemort, Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise, Snape.

Like a punch in the face I realised; The prince of Slytherin had finally got his comeuppance. He had finally been reduced to what I had been forced to believe I was for the whole of my life.

How could it be though, that as I stood like a shadow watching this one-sided argument between Draco and his boss unfold, that I felt sickened by the treatment that he was being shown.

"- I am sorry Sir, its just that me and him, we have history!"

"I don't care about your past relationships," The man stood up and made his way to the counter. As I saw him for the first time I was reminded of a complete and utter Indian slug-beetle; the beady, dark blue eyes and sweating-greying skin that bulged and fluctuated disgustingly, "So don't bring them into my- Oh hello Mr. Potter!"

The attitude of the slug vanished, changed and moulded in to fake kindness. Me, being a 'typical' Gryffindor pouted but played along, until the conversation between slave and master was forgotten and all that was left was me, being overly nice to this beast of a man.

It didn't take long until I was able to leave the shop, but that didn't mean I wasn't still bothered by the owner of 'Rare and Relish'. Or maybe it was that in the beginning I was worried about Draco, which led me to be worried about what the man might do to him. Whatever it was, I certainly couldn't help myself from eventually loosing sleep, food and mental health over what could have happened to that git of a boy I used to be taunted by.

It was when I left my house one day to visit Diagon Alley, that the thoughts, dreams and memory of that five minute slot of my life, in that shop came flooding back to me like water through a broken dam. I couldn't help myself as my feet took heed and went straight towards that blacked out shop. I couldn't help myself from peering, staring and eventually glaring in the direction of the slaving away Draco.

It broke my heart to see him reduced to this. Where was the fire? The rage? The pride?

Where ever it was, it couldn't be far. And like the man I am; I knew I was going to find it.


	2. Two thousand times I think of you

_Sorry this is so short. But its important you know the follow up to the real story. I promise, it gets better. I may not update quickly as I should on this fic, every few days or so. _

_Ash_

* * *

I had no use for turning myself into something I wasn't. Because of my fame, people would allow me to do whatever the hell I liked, so even though it bugged the hell out of Draco I continued going to that shop, waiting for my opportunity to get him the hell out of there.

I would stand around, talking to customers, buying things I would have to give away because I had no use for. If I didn't feel that Draco would get beaten and bruised over loosing his job, then I would have complained so much about him that he had to quit.

As much as I racked my brain about it, I could never understand why Draco would be in a hell hole such as this shop. His background was more that high priced, he was raised as a high class citizen and the last I knew of it, he was seen squandering his parents money in bars over Europe.

It would seem that Draco had possibly done something incredibly bad, which had led him to _'Rare and Relish'_, and I seriously doubt it was Death Eater activity; otherwise he would have been dead, in prison or hiding out somewhere. It seemed unlikely that he would be working in a well known, well visited shop so publicly in Diagon Alley, one of the most popular wizarding destinations in the world.

I couldn't though, for the life of me, find out what it was, or even begin to think about what might have happened.

XxXx

A few weeks after my obsession with Malfoy manifested itself; I was in Diagon alley ready to take action. I walked confidently into the shop and towards the slug man with a look on my face that said determination.

"How much for him?" I asked, pointing to an astonished looking Draco.

"Two thousand Galleons." The man said with boredom. He then looked up to see my reaction, and looked a little disappointed when I nodded my head and held out four money sacks.

He poured the money out and proceeded to count it bit by bit. I'm telling you now, there was two thousand there, and that's that.

And that was that. Draco now belonged to me.


	3. Bound to slavery

_Disclaimers always apply. So piss off all those that wish to sue me, for I own the dark mark and will hex those that stand in my way._

_DEDICATION_: **_LonelyNoMore_** _this is for you, for reviewing my one-shots and writing such lovely things. This is also to everybody who reads this story, you rock my Slytherin socks off._

"Potter you fucking arse wipe!" Draco screamed as he struggled like a fish out of water against my hold, as I ungracefully hoarded him back to the place I lived. He looked so like the person I used to know, even through the dirty clothes and hair and it made me wonder, at some reckless point, what had changed and more importantly _why_ had it changed. My remorse for Draco vanished as the things I ached to see in him, the little bit of my past that was as alive as my present, returned full force.

"Silence, please…" I requested, my keys in the left hand and Draco in the right. The blonde's hands were tied behind his back, unnecessary unless you count the avid attempts to run away, to be let loose like a caged animal.

Draco went quiet, all his resolve broken and I guessed taking orders was just part of his nature now, so unjust but there you go; time changes even the smallest of things. Except me, I don't change I simply rearrange for the better of humanity. Once inside the vast elegance (not chosen by me, nor pieced together by me. Many a decorator had set up this wonderful mansion for me. Not by me.) of my wonderful abode, I thrust Draco down in a chair, my hand hurting severely at the torrent of anger masked by the wriggling Draco had succumbed to during our journey, and in some part of my mind the image of a million taunts towards me flashed through; it was a meagre attempt to get back at Draco.

I stood in front of the glaring masterpiece; a delicate picture of what time, age and failure brings. All grey and dirty blonde, an image only I would have thought in simple distaste towards him, but now he was here so broken and bullied in front of me it didn't seem so funny, satisfying or _nice_.

"Go on then, kill me…" He whispered, a torn reminder of how I once felt, at the peak of the war. His face a downcast symbol of pure resignation.

"Accio jeans, Accio shirt, Accio socks…" the list went on, I am sure you can guess what else was needed. Once all items were securely in my hand, I threw them onto the slouching figure in front of me, who looked in amazement towards the bundle on his lap, "Put them on."

"If you haven't noticed, Potter, my hands are tied." Surely I had forgotten, however a wave of my hand remedied that and I was sure he muttered thanks, before standing to relieve himself of the horrid items of rags he already wore. To save us both embarrassment I turned around, however it wasn't before I noticed small scars littering his body.

"Wow Potter has some taste…" He drawled over the shuffling sounds coming from his direction. Indeed, it wasn't me who had taste, just someone I hired to deal with my image as I was always in the public eye, even more so after the war.

"Are you finished?" I muttered a minute later, my curiosity to see how he scrubbed up after a few fashionable, albeit comfortable too, clothes.

"No…" He whined, sounding truly desperate, like a child who is trying to accomplish something but who fails miserably. It was a heartbreaking mewl, and I turned around to help.

Upon my eyes falling flaccidly on Draco, I noticed his hands fumbling like Ron with a chocolate wrapper, on the button and clasp of the jeans. To say he looked remarkable would be an understatement, and that little nagging curiosity of boys on boys got me going momentarily. His eyes locked with mine and I forgot all about whatever dirty little things were running through me, before pushing back the boundaries once more and moving to help the little boy- grown man before me.

Tenderly I pushed his hands away, only for him to lay his hands over mine, as I pushed the button through its hole and adjusted the jeans on his hips so they fell like they should. Wherever I learned to do that I wouldn't know, however now was not the time to think of such thinks.

Before my mind had thought through the words, my mouth had opened to speak them. "You can go now…" I shuddered as he looked helpless, as if to say something against the idea, but I could see the internal battle as if he really wasn't sure if I had meant what he thought I had.

"But… I cant…" He sat down in a flop, "You own me."

"And I have no use for you, so you may go…" I spoke harshly, bending down in front of him to give him a sense of authority. "Whatever you have done to land yourself in this mess, whatever you have done after you landed yourself in it I do not care okay? I saved you because I am Gryffindor, because I am courageous and just. Please now, go…"

"You don't understand," He mewled again, and in that moment he reminded me of a timid kitten; something to hold and stroke and touch with love. "I cannot leave. I am bound to slavery…" He looked frozen for a moment before moving his features once again.

"Then I shall sell you off to someone else." I stated, not knowing why I would want to do such a thing. Honestly my house was big enough for ten or fifteen people, so for just this one little thing to huddle in a corner and possible clean the house now and again wouldn't be too bad would it? I can see you shaking your head now, because no it wouldn't, but then again you wouldn't have to deal with Ron and Hermione bitching about Draco day in and day out until you got rid of him.

I shouldn't care, but I did, until all that anxiousness over something so little washed away with a look of complete fear in the blonde's eyes, which was replaced with sadness, just sadness.

And looking back on it now, I wish he had told me that he would be bound to slavery until true love bound him to another person. Maybe then I wouldn't have fought away the feelings, when I could have given so much more than a bed, some clothes and a chance at life so very different from what he had ever experienced before.

XaXaXa

_This story is back. I'm an idiot. The story has changed directions. But I promise, it will be worth a read._

_I am sorry for neglecting it in the first place, a silly little thing to do I suppose. However it will be finished! For those that read 'The brass beneath' and its sequel I have momentarily lost interest in that story as the summery rays which laid upon it have been covered with snow (I suffer from S.A.D) and I need a little happy inspiration to fulfil the story. Reviewing might help (I'm shameless. I know)_

_Thank you,_

_Ashes of the most tragic Stars_


	4. A simple distinction

Disclaimer; For all Harry Potter related subjects I have borrowed; I do not own them. **The poem 'A simple distinction' is owned by me and only me. All rights to the plot and poem are mine and I don't want to be sued, so don't make me sue you.**

Small things made him happy and I could only render myself stupid as I collapsed into helplessness at that smile. I remember his feeble attempts at spelling himself clean with a wand so obviously not his own, and how when I told him he could bathe in the bath I did too use his whole face lit up like the glint on a knife edge; what a fine, cautious balance we had become, he teetering around me like a timid kitten whilst I tried desperately not to think of forbidden things.

"Mr. Potter?" He asked me shyly one day and if it wasn't for the utter fear in his face I would have screamed at him to call me Harry. I had once and it took him days to spend longer than three minutes in the bath.

"Please Draco, call me Harry…" He looked surprised, like he always did and I wondered why on earth the personality inside of him had been replaced with that of a house elf.

"Is there anything I can do?" He squeaked as I silently grit my teeth. I took a few minutes to think because in actuality the house was shiny, the sheets all washed and my clothes organised in a way even the most anal-retentive person would be proud of. Instead of requesting yet another mind numbing job, I beckoned the clawless kitten to me.

"Sit here…" I took his hands in mine and lightly pushed him onto a soft sofa in my study, which is where the conversation took place. He sat like he didn't belong and it broke my heart deceivingly; I pushed away the feelings, my mantra of 'no love, no love' repeating itself in the mind I possess.

"When is the last time you read?" He looked puzzled, as if he didn't understand the word, so I persisted, "A novel. When is the last time you read a novel?" I peered over the top of my looking glasses, and he backed away shyly. Why suddenly did I feel like a professor?

Draco shook his head, backing away with tears in his eyes and oh my, did I want to reach out just then. "Its okay Draco," I pulled him a little closer, "I shall read to you, yes?" I didn't wait for him to answer, instead summoned a book I had been meaning to read for a very long time. "Chapter one." I began, and as I read on I felt a relaxation take over his body, eventually over the hours his body moulding into mine.

_A simple distinction,_

_A farce of the mind,_

_I'll decompose,_

_And be the let down in your life._

There was something I had put off for weeks, and the longer I left it the more prominent it became in my life. I received letters, fire calls and even Hermione showing up on my doorstep, which is where I finally admitted to the little secret I had been hiding for the weeks gone by.

"You what?" She hissed on the other side of the door, her voice down with decency. I recoiled in disturbance at my own behaviour and there was never any time after that where I wanted Draco to be out of my life, well except for the incident but I will get to that later.

"I had to do something Hermione," I smiled softly, knowing she would understand and I was thankful for that, because I needed someone to be strong for me as my emotional balance was overloaded with looking after the Draco I was beginning to know all over again. "It was like looking into the deepest darkest prisoners Azkaban managed to break… hell he couldn't even do a jean button up!" I would have sighed, if there hadn't been that reoccurring mewl from somewhere deep in the house. Leaving Hermione at the door to her own devices I rushed towards the sound; the kitchen.

"Harrrry…" Whined Draco, standing by the kitchen isle holding a crisp looking piece of toast (immaculately made) and a knife in the other, the hands holding the items shaking with a mix of desperation, upset and annoyance. I looked between Draco and his hands, not knowing what was wrong and once again before I could utter anything, a string of apology and explanation fought its way to my ears, "You said – and I was- and I don't know how – you said if I was hungry I could eat so I tried to make this like you do every morning – I'm sorry, have I done wrong – I'm so sorry – I was just hungry…"

"Draco," I soothed, making my way to take the items from his hands, "Draco its okay I will help…" Before my hands, my fingertips, made contact with anything he dropped the pieces and gasped, a finger raised and pointed at a wide eyed Hermione.

"What can I do you for Miss?" He asked politely, voice high pitched and recoiling in fear once again.

What happened next would explain why Draco was in bars all over Europe, would make me realise now why Draco looked pointedly when I was half dressed and more to the point why he fought back, when ever that rare moment of life came about him.

_So I'll smoke the last cigarette,_

_In an attempt to forget,_

_Your pretty face._

_To forget the fear in your once so pretty_

_Face…_


	5. A description of mother

Disclaimers always apply!

_Okay, you guys wanted to see some more interaction between Harry and Draco so here it is. I hope you guys get the POV changes._

_Thanks to all my reviewers! _

"All I could do Ron," I had lowered my voice darkly, stressing the point in my tone, "Was repeat 'Its me Hermione, Its me Hermione'… I thought maybe he might remember. It was awful!" Ron looked quizzically at me for a few moments, before the light bulb clicked in his head and another useless revelation poured out.

"Well," He began confidently and I swear I could have smacked him over the head at that sound, "Maybe it's a good thing he doesn't remember you? I mean look at how he has sucked in Harry, don't you think there is the possibility it could have happened to you too?" And then my anger faded, my unjust misplaced anger towards Ron seeped away, annoying me I couldn't vent all this confusion inside my head. Ron was right though, the way Draco had squeaked out Harry's name was enough to break my heart and it certainly wasn't directed at me. I couldn't bear to think of what might happen to myself if I was in that situation, however analytical I was.

"Ron, do you think we should take him off Harry's hands?" I asked timidly, because indeed neither of us wanted to be in that situation as I explained before, but Harry hadn't recovered from the war still; it was evident in his eyes and the way he spoke. More so how he still trained for situations of war, even though we were in peaceful times. Draco, I knew, would only fuel the sadistic obsession Harry held and that scared me.

"Hermione, do you really think I want the ferret cooking for me? Its an act, we know that," (I looked pointedly at him here to which he responded with a correction of 'we' to 'I'), "And I don't want to be poisoned in my sleep!" How Ron got from food to sleep was a mystery to me, but then again some men like Ron only really think of a few things.

"The thing is though," I softened the tone of our conversation, "I don't think it is." Wide eyed, Ron sipped his coffee in an attempt to ignore my opinion as he thought he was right. At the end of the day, who knew? It could well be an act, but learning from experience we had to let Harry deal with it on his own until he came to us for help.

XaXa

The next time I saw Harry, I was apparently intruding on his personal time alone with his thoughts. He grumbled as he made me some tea, he growled when I sat down and he looked deathly at me when I asked how he was feeling. Being the friend I am I put up with it, pursuing what was going on not an option and neither did I really want to know.

"Where's Draco?" I asked as he sat across from me, his body flopping down on the sofa, "I thought he would have scrambled to open the door or something." I said it from truth, but I wish I hadn't when he tried to strangle his coffee cup.

"There has been another incident," He ground out between his teeth, "And I am not so sure I can keep handling these stupid freak outs he keeps having." There was my opportunity to say something like 'What?' but kept quiet, like a good little girl.

"I walked in on him in the bath…" He said like he knew I thought something like that was coming. I nodded my head in understanding, and he looked so saddened I couldn't help the cuddle that swept me off my seat and into his arms.

I hated to see him in so much pain, but then again that's what I was here for and nothing at that moment could make me leave the embrace that locked the comfort I gave right into his bones.

XbXbXb

I heard him shuffling in his sleep. It was bad of me, I know, to be listening outside his door at such an ungodly hour but he had been sleeping so roughly, coming downstairs in the morning so groggy and I could see it in his eyes that all he wanted was a decent nights sleep. I refused to give him any kind of sleeping potion as his weak body wouldn't be able to handle it, and as of yet I hadn't got round to asking Hermione for something he could take without being conked out for a day and a half.

My nosiness was cut short as I leaned in closer to his door, and heard a faint mewling of my name. Sighing to myself I got the courage to open his door to the second best bedroom in the house. The bed inside was covered in pure white Egyptian cotton which laid against ones skin with no protest. A normal sized double bed was what was covered and what Draco laid onto sleep, so I found it weird he slept on the very edge of the bed, even more so on top of the covers.

He looked up to me upon my entrance, his eyes glazed over with tears and tentatively I made my way towards his bed in the hopes of relieving some of that pain, to destructive to be kept up inside.

"What's the matter?" I asked him, my voice soft. I wasn't ready (although I should have known it would have come if I went into his bedroom in the middle of the night) for the unleashed anger inside of him.

"Come to make a mockery of me now have you Potter?" He spat, and I really believed for a few seconds that I was back in Myrtle's bathroom.

"No Draco, why would I ever do that?"

"Like I don't know!" He growled out, and suddenly the kitten had claws. I moved towards the other side of the bed, climbing under the covers and pulling the side he was on out from under him, wrapping it around his lithe body carefully.

"You know what Draco?" I asked calmly, ready to break at any moment but keeping my anger in check at the scared eyes which betrayed any form of life from inside of him. He shook his head no, a simple beckon for me to continue, "If I wanted to buy you for sex, don't you think I would have done it by now?" His eyebrows raised a little, and I smiled at the denouncing of his fear.

"Buttering me up?" He asked and I shook my head, with a little giggle coming forth.

"I'm what some people call celibate…" I admitted for the first time in my life. Not that the act of celibacy was chosen, at the beginning of my sexual awakening, by myself.

"So, why were you crying Draco?"

"Its just something I do!" He said in a loud whisper, his body turned towards me. Indeed I believed him, in some sense as it was what I used to do, but I knew there was more to it.

"Yeah?" I asked rhetorically, "I used to do it too, after my godfather was killed."

"Your godfather was killed?" He asked softly, almost in remorseful awe.

"Yeah, by your aunt Bellatrix, at the Department of Mysteries." I couldn't be anything but honest with him.

"Oh. That's sad…" He tried to move closer un-noticed but I saw and he moved away again, only for me to pull him into me. "My mother was killed."

"I know," I replied, "I was there, trying to stop it."

"Harry?" He asked after the moments I had given him to contemplate, "What did she look like?"

"What?" I asked shocked, not really wanting to tell him about the gruesome killing she suffered from.

"I can't remember what she looked like," He admitted softly, "Tell me what my mother looked like…"

"Much like you," I said softly, a waft of admiration in my voice, "Angelic, with this flowing golden hair, like yours, that sat in ringlets over her shoulders. She was a very tall woman, not too tall though. Her body was like that of a woman, not boyish in one way; she had slim curvy hips, woman's thighs and breasts not to big to be deemed ridiculous but big enough to cast natural, gorgeous cleavage.

"She had what you call an hourglass figure, which so many people fought to have either as their own bodies or for their own desires however her body was outshone by her eyes; the brightest most piercing blue eyes I have ever seen on a woman. You have those eyes Draco, those beautiful eyes.

"The thing I remember most about your mother was her hands; how artistic they were. Long slender fingers, with perfect, small nails which she painted with a natural clear shine, the one thing that could ever catch me off guard when I had her wand pointed at me."

"Harry, did you take a fancy to my mom?" Draco asked almost amusedly.

"She was a very beautiful, kind hearted woman Draco but no, I never liked your mother in that way."

"Do you like me in that way?" He asked, and there was a cocky gleam in his eye for a second before it was replaced by pure adoration. I didn't know whether that was towards me or the words I had said but it made me feel that tinge of feeling I had forced myself to stop feeling all those weeks back.

Not knowing what to say, I pulled him closer (possibly not the best thing to do) and simply whispered in his ear, "I care a lot about you Draco. Can I request one thing from you?" I felt him stiffen, but nod all the same.

"Can you be my friend instead of my servant?"


	6. On my left buttock

The easiest of tasks were difficult for Draco and everyday I would find another thing he couldn't do, or couldn't remember. 'Harry? What's orange juice?', 'Haaaarrrryyy, (mewling again) 'I cant I can shave!' 'I cant write…' It was rather disconcerting, how he could do huge mathematical problems, but not even shave his stubbly face, which ended with me doing it for him whilst he fought away sobs at his incapability to do even the simplest of things.

It was nice though, to teach him about muggle life and for him to accept, without major criticisms of what I was telling him. His favourite things with the muggle world was the music, which he would sit listening to over and over, eventually going through each song in my vast music collection.

I started to toughen up my attitude towards feeling anything about Draco too. It was hard, especially when he would come skipping downstairs singing in the morning and looking at me wide eyed and happy, a big smile gracing his face and the bags under his eyes fading but I knew to fall for Draco would end with me hurt, and there were things with Draco that always got me sunk into him knowing if I continued with the actions made I would end up hurt.

So yeah, he was getting so much better as the summer rolled out and the first tinges of winter came about the world. Because I no longer worked, we spent most days sitting at home reading or teaching him things he had forgotten and soon the book collection was running thin. I had read him Tolstoy, Orwell, Poe and Wilde and his thirst for the literature stood prominent over most things. Occasionally I would catch him reading himself, his brows furrowed with the rolls of intelligence refreshing his abused mind and his hands tentatively turning pages like they were precious.

One morning I walked into my study to yet again see Draco reading alone happily, his small body tucked under the blanket I kept by the sofa. He looked up to me from the book and smiled before looking back down at the page of the book. "I was thinking about getting a tattoo someday…" He said with his eyes still on the book. Intrigued, I raised my eyebrows.

"Of what?" I asked curious, almost ignited inside when he looked happy at the enthusiasm I showed.

"Not sure. I'm afraid they might hurt though…" He turned a page, biting the inside of his cheek.

"They don't!" I squeaked, forgetting that mine was the one thing people didn't see of me.

"You have one?" He asked, finally looking up from his literature. I nodded, bashful for a few moments, "Of?"

I showed him the tattoo on my left buttock. I felt so ashamed of doing it for a moment, but then again for once Draco didn't wilt away like a dying flower. "Its nice," He commented after I pulled my trousers back up to my hips and I smiled knowingly.

"Its made you want to get one even more, hasn't it?" I asked amused and he nodded like I expected him to. "Come on then, lets go!" I pulled him up off the sofa and towards the door by his pale hands. He protested by pulling away reluctantly, but my grip was firm and I won out in the end.

"I have no money Harry!" He whined in the doorway which made me grin like a Cheshire cat.

"But Draco," I started matter-of-factly, "You do! All this work you have done for me, did you not expect me to pay you?" I hadn't actually thought of it before, but then again he wouldn't know that. I needed him to do things he wanted to do, it was the only way to bring him from the shell he called the past. I calculated an amount in my head as to how much he should have by now and the sum came to a fair amount. "And because of all that money you own, you're taking me out to lunch!"

"How much do I have?" He asked timidly.

"How much do you want?" I asked, avoiding the question as I knew he would protest when I told him how much I actually had just set aside for him.

"Harry!" He whined and I gave in.

"Come on, take my arm and we will aparrate there, okay?" He nodded, like a small child.

But my heart didn't flutter at those up-cast eyes anymore…

_Dearest readers, Wonderful reviewers and Fantastic friends,_

_I know this is short! It's a bit of a filler until… well I can't tell you. Check my homepage for clues! First person who guesses wins something… or maybe not!_

_Ashes of all your Stars_


	7. The biography

"Oh Merlin…" Draco muttered, his form slightly shaking with nerves at the sounds coming from behind the door ahead of us. I looked him over once, to check his strength although I knew whatever the outcome he was going to go through with this. We already had the design, customised for Draco in his own little way and man it was going to look good.

"Are you ready Draco?" I asked over the hum of the tattoo guns. He nodded, shaking badly and I could see he wanted to say something but the quivering of his jaw hindered that.

I led him to the same room I had been in previously, sitting down on the space available for observers which wasn't a lot but enough to hold Draco's hand as he began to be customised himself. The tattoo artist was a middle aged man with scruffy blonde hair, tattoos covering his arms and a crooked boyish smile that seemed to sooth Draco immediately.

"Right then son," he addressed Draco, "Sit down here, back facing me and take your shirt off…" Draco did as told, slightly stiffly but none-the-less efficiently. Seating himself down, his arms leaning on the back of the chair he managed to smile, just for a moment at me which caused me to reach out and take his hand in mine for comfort.

I watched as the tattoo artist cleaned the skin over and between Draco's shoulder blades with a liquid that ensnared by senses. I loved that smell, of utter cleanliness. Draco jumped a little at the coldness that hit his back, but kept cool all the same. Then the outline of the tattoo was placed over the damp skin on Draco, from transparent paper to skin in seconds. Gloves were placed on the hands of the artist, who set up the needle speedily and pep-talked Draco for his body work.

"Right, son, you ready?" Draco nodded, and then I watched for an hour straight as the needles were scraped over the flesh, leaving in their wake a beautiful design of compliments to Draco. I was surprised how he eased up after only a short while, and how he looked disappointed when cling film was placed over his back and he was told that he could go. (I must say now how I remembered the feeling of needles entering my skin, scraping over the flesh in vibrations. It suited my soul, my senses. As ink was rubbed over skin waiting to be tattooed I relished in the contrast of oily liquid to the soft skin of my body. I customised myself, in a way only Draco knew about…)

As we walked out from the small room, the tattoo artist called me back and asked; "And you, what you getting done?" I had to laugh a little as it was the furthest thing from my mind but none-the-less I thought about it for a while.

"Maybe another time?" I asked, and he nodded smiling.

"See you soon I hope!" He replied, and I shook his hand and left. I think I must have made a mistake in taking Draco to get inked because the smile he was giving the world scared the hell out of me. He had been liberated, that much was for sure.

"Harry," He began cheerily, "I'm hungry. I need food." I think the digging of needles into his skin had caused more arrogance and yeah I couldn't help but think that the new school term after he had taken the Dark Mark was filled with his over confidence. I think I was right, in that moment, that the branding Draco received had liberated him and I was almost glad.

"Lets go eat then?" I asked, and he nodded whilst his hand fiddled about inside his jeans pocket, whirling around his own money. We walked a little way until we came about a greasy spoon café which, looking back on it now, was a nice little hype inducer from all the sugar. I was sincerely becoming to regret today, once the animation within Draco's features and talk went into over drive.

"…So I thought it was going to hurt- but it felt- wonderful!" I laughed as he did, before he piled food into his mouth, swallowing and then speaking again. "Harry, will you read to me when we get home?"

"Course I will Draco, of course I will…" I looked deep in his eyes, relishing in the happiness he gave. Again though, my heart would not flutter.

"And can you teach me how to cook?" He asked like a little child.

"Cook what?" I asked, trying to narrow down the whole genre of cooking which in honesty was daunting.

"Anything… your favourite food?" I nodded, not quite realising where that would lead me one day, but agreed to it anyways.

AxAxAx

Harry Potter paused here, his interview trailing out as a break in his memory clouded over. Luna sat in front of him, her note-pen tapping away on her chin as she listened intently. The golden strands of sunshine flooded through the long windows, bathing the room in sheens of happiness even though Harry felt sombre inside. Luna looked over at Harry, understanding many things within him as he recalled so much of the past. She had been asked by Harry to write his biography, and there in front of both of them lay many accounts from his friends and family which detailed many aspects and views of The-Boy-Who-Lived.

"I guess I should skip the starters and get to the main course?" He asked slightly amused, not quite emitted from his reverie yet. His eyes lay unfocused on a pile of papers, slight wind from outside dusting the corners in air.

"Harry, this is your story. It's your wish to tell it how you feel it is…" She replied, her airy voice matching the cooling winds floating through the room.

"It couldn't be more complicated, how I met him and in turn how I let him go. You meet people, you know, that just make you feel alive in times where you feel dead. It was nearing Christmas, you know and somehow I just felt I had to do something with my life.

"Ron invited me out to a party at his work, telling me to meet some new friends. I think the presence of Draco in my life made him uneasy. Truly to the outside world it looked as if I was struggling, with the way Draco would latch onto my arms wherever we were, whisper in my ear when he was to afraid to talk aloud and the look in his eyes that came about when I entered a room.

"I found it difficult, as I was loosing feeling and he was gaining it. It felt like he was sucking all the compassion for life I had right from me, but still I wouldn't sell him onto someone else. I knew him as my friend but it became increasingly obvious with every moment we spent together that he was falling in love with me.

"And I didn't feel anything back…"

Luna 'Hmmed', noted something on paper and went back to gazing with engrossed eyes at Harry. They sat silent for many moments, the air passing through them softly, before Luna spoke up. "You say its complicated meeting then losing him?"

Harry replied exhaustedly, "Yes, because he made me feel alive. If it wasn't for Draco wafting about, noticing that my influences had changed I think we would have gone on longer. Not that I regret now loosing Calix, I just wished I had more of a chance to end things peacefully."

"What did Draco do?" Luna asked, airy awe in her tones.

"He started dropping things, screaming in his sleep and eventually crying whenever I said his name. It seemed that I hurt him, with every decibel I uttered in reference to him. In fact, I could feel the shards of humanity within him break and I think that's when I realised that he had been through this before. I had saved him from all the torture based about love and here I was breaking him. Damn Luna! He positively hated that he was in love with me, and I was falling for Calix…"

"Where you in love with Calix?"

"No of course not, I couldn't have been obviously. It was just that Calix was new, exciting and he made me feel alive. His eyes would look at me, without the many years of influence to my name, and I could see the devotion he wanted to spread throughout me. He never hesitated to show me I was wanted, and even though Draco was much the same, Calix was never vulnerable. He always stood up for himself, which meant I couldn't shatter everything around him. I could see, with every day that passed that Calix was building a world with me in it, whilst Draco was _making_ me his world. I didn't want to be the soul attraction of somebody, I just wanted to be part of someone's soul…"

"Then why didn't you let Draco go sooner!" Luna snapped, angry at Harry's misplaced morals. She was livid, in every way at what Harry had said and she could only hope the blonde didn't suffer too much.

Harry waved his hands around a little in protest against Luna's anger, "Because he was everything that Calix couldn't be…" Harry paused, his unshed tears falling around some of the papers in front of him, "He was all I could ever hope not to be and everything a person should be. He was willing to learn and in turn smart, he was loving and at the same time wary of emotion, he was beautiful yet scarred, he was frightened but willing to be strong and you know what was best of all about him Luna?"

"No, what?"

"I loved him too…"

_Okay, here it is. A little longer than expected! I am hoping to get another chapter out soon as all my reviewers deserve it! However things are getting hectic here and for once I am happy… yeah… and if any of you try and make me write fluff for Christmas I promise I will kill you, with my Slytherin personality…_

_Yeah… _

_Ashes_


	8. Can I kiss you?

Luna sat stunned a few moments at the honest response from Harry. It kept going over in her head; how Harry had denied himself all feeling for Draco (in response never feeling the heart fluttering anymore) yet how he contradicted himself by saying he was in love with Draco. Being enigmatic was one thing, but to be down right puzzling was another.

"Go back to when you met Calix." Luna demanded, her thoughts scattered and her voice rather wafty.

Harry had no choice but to relive those very moments.

AxAxAx

…Draco looked hurt when I told him that I was spending the night out with Ron and I am sure as he walked away he muttered something about not being able to go. For a moment I was surprised how he didn't stomp around, calling Ron a weasel then emotionally blackmailing me as he would have all those years ago. Instead, he accepted what I gave him with as much dignity as the poor Draco within could muster. I did my very best the night to set Draco up with enough things to keep him busy until I got back, like rent a few videos I thought he would enjoy and buying him a new book to read.

I left that night, wearing the best clothes for the occasion, hopeful that Draco could amuse himself despite the little nagging voice in my head saying he shouldn't be left alone. I apparated to the arrival point outside the Wizard run restaurant Ron's work had hired for the Christmas party. It was rather fancy, but I expected that as Ron worked for a prestigious firm of magical law enforcers. Ron's job was much like an aurors, except he didn't have so much work that required duelling. It was all rather complicated, so I won't go into that too much.

Much like any dinner party, there was good food, excellent wine, fantastic people and dancing and soon enough in my hazy stage I found myself being dragged from my seat towards a dance floor. I was reluctant to go at first, because lets face it; the Yule Ball proved I wasn't cut from the same cloth as those that could dance, but when I protested I could only be soothed by the person dragging me to the floor.

"Please Hermione!" I yelled over the music, because she knew I couldn't dance. I really didn't want to be embarrassed in front of everyone.

"Here, I'm going to show you!" She reassured me, yet I still felt uncomfortable with the whole situation.

Hermione placed her feminine hands on my hips and pushed either down so they swayed with the music. The rhythm came to me easy enough and I think Hermione found it hard to believe that I could dance on my own, so quickly. Maybe it was the drinks, or the atmosphere but I was on fire… dancing, singing and laughing along with Hermione like we used too, in school.

Ron, I noticed, became slightly green eyed after a few songs and quickly took Hermione away from me. I was left on the dance floor embarrassed as people stood with their dancing partners all around me, moving with the music and I really felt exposed at that moment. I decided to leave the dance floor, to return to my seat but my actions were stopped before I had even moved.

I turned around to the person gripping my shoulder and smiled at the handsome, tall man looking at me expectantly. He had eyes shaped femininely which I could faintly tell were dark brown, that looked almost black. He had broad shoulders and a small waist which were accentuated by his dress shirt and topped off by his dress pants.

"Mind dancing with a man?" He asked over the hum of music, and I felt excited then and there. He was gorgeous, really gorgeous!

I nodded, to smashed out of the situation to comprehend words, and I moved into his arms to dance the night away… or as long as he kept me. I know now I didn't think of Draco once that night, but that would be the only time I didn't.

As the night came to a close, after a few more drinks and one more dance the stranger who held me very close our whole dancing pulled me aside. "And your name…?" He asked like I hadn't answered the question before.

"Harry." I gave, smiling whilst looking up at him. He nodded, a grin firmly in place and I could see the attraction in his eyes.

"I'm Calix." He responded. We stood there, looking at each other for a few moments until Hermione bustled up to me, offering to go home. I nodded at her, motioning that I would be a minute.

"Here's my floo address, come by tonight if you wish…" I gave him a slip of paper that for some reason already had my address on it.

"See you later then?" I nodded and he went towards the cloak room, before turning back and leaving a chaste kiss on my lips that stung against all the virginity inside of me, which was so desperate to get out.

XxXx

"Draco!" I shouted, drunk, throughout the house. I could hear rustling from the kitchen so I decided to go that way to look for him. When I arrived I saw Draco desperately trying to put cream on his fresh tattoo, and in honest it wasn't working.

"Harry?" He mewled, and I nodded with a smile on my face. Tentatively I took the cream from his hand, and turned him towards me so I could look at him whilst I rubbed the cream over his back. He moaned happily at the touch, his eyes fluttering closed every few seconds and for the first time, I saw him completely content.

Slowly, he raised his hands to my shoulders as a way to balance himself at I began to massage his tense shoulders into soft muscle. I couldn't identify how it happened, it just did. He lowered his head to my right shoulder, on the way his cheek brushed against mine, causing me to shiver. "That feels so good…" He whispered, as I started my ministrations down his chest.

I could only agree that it did feel good, to do this. I was so intoxicated though that it would have felt good to do this to anyone, but if I am honest it felt special hearing him enjoy himself like he was.

My hands moved over to his sides, and he moved closer. "Don't stop…" He whispered again, but for some reason I knew I had too.

"Draco, I have someone coming over in a minute." He looked up, his eyes so close to mine that I found it difficult to focus. He looked confused, but I wouldn't back down just because of him.

"Who?" He moved closer, which I found weird but I took no notice of it at the time.

"Someone I met tonight." I told honestly.

"Have fun, Harry…" He said dejectedly, pushing me away from his balance on my shoulders and stalking with hurt towards his bedroom.

XaXaXa

Calix and I sat on my sofa, all the doors in the room shut, giggling over a bottle of wine. "So Ron is terrified of spiders?" He asked, amused.

"I recommend putting a fake one in his coffee cup; he will scream like a girl!" I offered, as I had found out Calix and Ron worked next to each other.

The giggling died down shortly, and we were left in comfortable silence. Calix shifted on the sofa which landed him closer to me. "Enough of your friends, Harry," He said looking at me, which made me avert my gaze, "Tell me about you?"

"What do you want to know?" I asked.

"Everything!" He demanded, which I chuckled at again.

"Specific?"

"Do you like me?" He asked. I shivered at the gaze and yet I was excited at the whole question.

Of course I liked him; he was one of the most good looking people I had ever seen: A dark version of Draco.

I nodded.

"Can I kiss you?"

I took no time to respond to that one, because soon enough we were a grinding couple, kissing like it was something we did everyday.

I wish I had of known then that tears were being shed over our very actions, because maybe I wouldn't… maybe I just wouldn't have…

* * *

_I really don't like this chapter! My insperations at the moment are to heavy, so my writing is a under pressure. I hope you like this though, it means alot!_

_Ashes..._


	9. Like bolts of pure ecstasy

_From page three hundred and ninety six of 'The Biography of Harry Potter', published in 20--, written by Harry Potter with Luna Lovegood-Longbottom, and help from others._

…It was a feeling, that buzzed through me with raw slices. I found nothing in the way I was falling, as I could feel the lips of Harry on Calix. My curse, it was said, that made me feel everything that went on between one I loved, and the one that was loved by my beloved. Crumbling, I shook as I turned on my sheets to try and find solitude in sleeping, however my dreams until the next day were full of every nasty little thing that had come my way.

Those things were wrapped up against that kiss they shared, because my life was in Harry's hands. The Dark Lord had branded me, with the near qualities of a house elf; the only thing to break the curse was the returned love from another, and this curse he placed upon me didn't vanish after the Lord's fall. There was a catch in my curse, which said that if I didn't succeed in finding true love before my twenty eighth birthday, then death would cease me from ever finding such happiness in emotion. So far, I had been searching for love for nearly nine years, since my eighteenth birthday when the present I received was the life I was serving.

What stopped me, from loosing myself all together that night that Harry had Calix round, was the sparkle of hope that Harry might just be confusing his feelings because all those times he absentmindedly played with my hair, or touched me when we passed had me alive! He couldn't see how all those things betrayed all the things he hoped he wasn't doing, yet I couldn't face the fact he had stopped believing in the truth of maybe, even just a little bit, of loving me.

The weeks went on, naturally like they should. I spent as much time avoiding Harry, because all those times with him weren't worth doing anymore, because all his falseties were causing so much pain inside of me.

I was less than human when he had brought me to his home, the only glimmer of life coming from me in the form of rage! And he knew why that was; for all those times I gave myself away in the hope of being loved.

Yes, they loved their broken boys rough, unwilling and strugglers! I couldn't help but fight back when all those who had owned me before, either demanded sex from me or demanded I have sex with others. I only did it because of the fear of being beaten, or not being loved. Although, I say I didn't want to be beaten, I would allow that just as much as the sexual deviances others put upon me, because I thought that brought love.

And yet, here was Harry who rightfully owned me and all he wanted to do to me was teach me to read, teach me to cook and to do those little things I couldn't remember because yet again, I gave away pieces of me in the hope others would love me. I can't say I ever loved another, apart from the growing feeling for Harry, because he was the only one that treated me as a person.

But then, after the night he spent with Calix, I found there was more unintentional things he did to hurt me, as opposed to unintentional things he did to make me love him. Suddenly, the touches he gave where ones to get me out of the way; like when I blocked a hallway, or when I cut things for dinner wrong and he would push my hands away roughly.

I remember the night when Harry asked me to sit with him and Calix, to meet the git. I was raged, but I never let on, that he would ask such a thing. Couldn't the blind fool see that I was dying? I had but a year and a half to live, couldn't he see that? And more importantly couldn't he see it was the love he didn't reciprocate that was killing me faster?

So, I let Harry dress me in the clothes he saw fit in and then do my hair; his hands running over my head like bolts of pure ecstasy running its way over my being. I ignored every little thing, that said for me to turn around and kiss him then and there, and I felt like I was standing on a cliff edge with a second to run or die.

When I walked into the room, Calix lit up like a Christmas tree at my presence, "I have heard a lot of you!" He greeted me, and I plastered on a wound of happiness, just for Harry's sake.

"I have heard of you too." I responded, in all the careful demeanour I could muster. Harry smiled at us, like it was his mother and boyfriend getting along.

"Wine, Draco?" Calix offered, yet I felt no warmth from his tones as they washed over me. I nodded, because it would be rude to refuse. Carefully I lifted the glass to my lips, tasting for the first time that night the bitterness that matched my feeling.

"It's nice to finally meet Harry's great friend, he is awfully fond of you." Calix offered the conversation again, and I smiled as warmly as I could.

"Yes," I responded, "He seems rather fond of you too…" Harry smiled at me, as if that was the right answer. Couldn't it be that Harry was fond of me, just as he was Calix?

"Harry tells me you went to school together?"

"Yes, Harry and I did school together…" I said, my teeth on edge; about to grit themselves together, but out of politeness I asked: "Where did you go to school?"

"St. Stars, in Cornwall." I nodded, then remembered.

"You went to school with Zerlinda Iceshimmer?" I asked, in awe.

"Yes, she was in the year below me!" He responded, a glint in his eye.

"We grew up together! I was betrothed to her!" I almost screamed, delight at knowing someone who knew him. The connections between us were being made, and even though I hated it I would do it, just for Harry.

"Betrothed? My dear boy she was awful come fifth year…"

"Don't I know that? She lost all her wonderful demeanour, she was of the highest blood around until she began whoring around…"

He nodded, and whilst he did so I cast a glance at Harry, who was smiling at our interactions. "Did you know Abrasaxia Knowles?" He asked enlightened; all the petty small talk forgotten.

"Did I?" I asked myself, "Of course! Smiths cousin?"

"Yes, he was the one who/ broke the bottle!"

"/ broke the bottle!" We said at the same time.

"Care to enlighten me?" Harry asked, confused.

"Yes," I talked before Calix, "Matthias Smith was given, as a coming of age present, a bottle of the finest water. The legend had it that the water would bring cause the holder the finest thoughts, whenever they so wished. The pool it was bottled from dried up soon after the bottle was corked, leaving the bottle Matthias had the only source of such a thing left in the world.

"However, coming of age didn't make Matthias any wiser that he already was, so on the day of receiving his present he decided to leave it lying on the floor with all his other presents whilst he went to bed the whore his father had bought him, for the night of his first in adulthood.

"Now, when the next day came, the whore who he had slept with the previous night demanded payment as she had realized, from the fumbling of Matthias that he was rather dimwitted. He searched around for a suitable payment on his floor, that was covered in mess and noticed the glowing green bottle. He picked it up, ran over to the ugly whore and went to pass it too her, instead he tripped on a huge 'Luck chest' and dropped the bottle!" I tried to regain my breath after my little speech, whilst Harry looked shocked and Calix held in his laughter.

"You forget the most important part Draco!" Calix said, "That his father banished poor Matthias for one month, to the location of the dried up pool and when he returned he was to be branded a fool, literally!"

"Yes…" I recollected, "He was; right on his forearm it was?" I asked.

"Indeed, poor bloke never quite lived that down!" Calix added, and we laughed for a few moments before a timer went off to the left of us; in the kitchen.

"I'll get that!" I skipped up, taking my wine glass with me.

"I'll be right back Calix, I just need to go help?" Harry asked, as he lifted himself up too.

When in the kitchen, Harry rounded on me in whispers, "You have never said that much to me!" He seethed.

"I don't think I have ever said that much!" I added honestly, not remembering a time when I had said so much, but never-the-less enjoying talking like I had.

"What games are you playing at, Draco?" Harry seethed again, and I knew I should have been sad, but my elation from my chat with Calix had sent me soaring. Also, Harry had requested we be friends, and my obligations as a house-elf interpreter had caused me to take heed to that request, and so I did; I was more a friend now than I ever was an enemy, or a household servant.

"I was just talking Harry!" I laughed at his look, thinking it was way to stubborn to be considered scornful. Possibly he was just jealous, then again he could just be hurt that I got on with Calix. I think, in love, we often wish on the outside for our partners to get along with our friends, only for them to do exactly that and for us to become sick with jealousy over the shared people between us.

"I thought you didn't talk?" And that comment, as much as I wished I could have found it funny, hurt.

"Fuck you!" I yelled in whisper. I turned to walk away, my wine glass in my hand but the words that followed me out of the room caused me to do something I had been trained not to do.

"Draco…" I dropped my wine glass, the contents shattering on the floor to resemble the effects of the Sectumsempra curse, and my eyes caused my face to be littered with tears, at my name… my mere name.

AxAxA

I heard the floo fire up from my bedroom, the effects of it being lit reverberating in the fireplace in my room, sending green sparks to light up the darkness that surrounded me. I sat on my bed, finally free of tears when Harry knocked on my door.

Naturally, from the hurt I ignored him; naturally he opened the door anyways. He came in without words and sat on the bed next too me, the light streaming in from the open door lighting his face; his kiss stained face which disgusted me.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly. I wished at that moment the line between hate and love was thinner than it actually is, but naturally nothing can be so easy. I felt as if on a great void, between the line ever beginning, trying desperately to gain a hate for Harry, in all his pride so I could knock him down.

"Yes, I am okay…" I responded with a glint of a sneer, only holding back the full force of it so I could seem, genuinely okay.

"I am sorry about earlier, I don't know why I flipped out!" He threw his hands up in exaggeration of his utterance, and I couldn't help but smile.

"You couldn't help yourself?"

"No…"

I smiled a little brighter, "Well, Harry, I am going to bed. Sleep well…" I was already in the night clothes he had set aside for me, so when I got under my covers I didn't expect him to do anything but give up and go; I forgot he was once a Gryffindor!

Suddenly, the covers were lifted up on the other side of the bed and a body pressed against mine. I felt warm, against my previous beg for hate, at the touch. "I'm so sorry…" He uttered, and I could only smile.

I was sorry too. So sorry that he had landed me in this position, but at the same time so in love with Harry that there was nothing else to do than to lean into the touch, and sleep so peacefully it would have been better if I had never woken up.

* * *

_Two chapters in one day? I must be off my trolley (not that I had one to begin with!) Please, please review, just for my sanity! I would really appriciate it!_

_Just once, to make a Christmas a Christmas?_

_Ashes_


	10. Plastic people

I was jealous of your life when the web that tangled around me gave me just enough room for my prying eyes to see you smile. It was a careless smile which you could give out at whim, without any throwbacks that would haunt you every time your head hit the pillow, causing reckless figments of things trying to be forgotten rise to the surface. I watched you there, sitting at the table with a smile on your face and it would rip me. We were rivals, of the deadliest kind; one wanted to kill whilst the other was trying to be killed. We were rivals, without much of a cause because if we look now on our situation its easy to see there was always something there, between us. Bed sheets, perfect bed sheets we were, with another body between us and another reason to be pulled apart from each other when the sun rose, when everybody saw us. Expecting a fight, they all gave us the bait to hate each other and it is rather much a farce that we did so.

I say I was jealous of your life and I mean it; you always had the path in front of you which you knew you were to follow even if age stopped you from knowing it. I always lived my life covered in dark robes, to young to understand the abuse, the abusing and the abuser. You could raise your glass to your friends, and toast their lives, toast your life because there was never a moment where it seemed you were in the dark, and I still am jealous of that because the past affects my future and when there is nothing light, to guide you through all those times you don't know whether you can breathe in dust or cut yourself on plastic, its hard to find your way in the dark.

You were perfect and I hated that, and what's worse is you had a vibes of tragedy, laced with good looks and indifference rolling off you whilst I sat back and was adored for much of the same reasons, but in a different light. I think, if I am honest that you go much deeper that what everyone made you out to be and all this perfection you portrayed goes so much deeper than the flawless skin, the vibrant eyes and the good nothings you never did.

I was always there, and what hurts is that I could only stand beside you and watch as it fell apart. The war broke out around us; what where we to do? Suck it up: one of us ran, the other one stayed behind and fought and conquered. One of us is neither prettier than the start of a line leading to the perfect life, and the other is as enigmatic as a pack of peanuts that won't open, but what I found outstanding about us is that were to half's of the same thing, yet you are lit from my light, and I am bleached out from yours. You shine, and you were there and now you're here beside me.

All those years, they left me in doubt about myself because I could watch plastic people do plastic plays, with you as their lead and you could work it. You were free, because you knew the rules of the game; you knew the lines that were to be spoken and you always fitted your cue with taste and dignity and there I was, suspended in the middle of it all whilst waiting for the perfect answer to a perfect question I didn't know how to answer with the gusto you could just present, with a flick of a wand or the sharp edge of the tongue you used to shout the world down with.

But, is that still you in there? Because it doesn't really seem so. I'm not so jealous, nor so exasperated by the fact you just are. I want you desperately to not matter, and in my quest to fill my own denial I have succeeded in forgetting the things that could, and want, to make me love you. Denial is such a funny thing, because it comes on so many plastic levels and in so many neon colours. Your green, I'm dirty brown and yet we go together but don't match. I'm negative, your postitive, I'm taught and your learning and why does it feel like were in this together now? The longer I suppress my feelings for you, the more I realise the truth lies in the one statement that serves as a fact: I'm loosing my love for you, and I am succeeding in suppressing my desire to give you the one thing you really deserve.

But were laying on this sofa today, drinking coffee. You had whimpered my name again because of something trivial like forgetting how to shave. I taught you these things, I had spent many moments keeping you up to scratch with what you should already know by default but why do you keep on forgetting. I want to ask, but your wickedly unbalanced demeanour shuts me down on my race to find out what happened to you.

I look at you, and you have your eyes closed against the falling sun, that's fast disappearing from the sky we lay under. There is someone, still in there, that I cannot wait to discover; but curious cannot be an option when the truth would undo all my work to stop loving you. For now, as you stop breathing heavily and I realise your finally asleep in my arms once again, I will stay content with the knowledge that I was once so jealous. For now… for now I am comfortable with you in my arms and my consummated lover, Calix, upstairs waiting for me.

_Dearest readers,_

_It has been a long time, but I won't flood you with reasons as to why. A lot has happened to me, and the muses that I had for this particular piece of work have long left. However, some seem to have returned, so lets rejoice! I have a piece of original writing that goes to this piece, if anyone may be so interested to read it, let me know in your reviews._

_Ashes, with love and honesty, from the brightest of neon Of Stars in the sky._


	11. Time goes so slow

I move slowly through the kitchen, watching my hands skim over the leftover ingredients from the dinner I just made for us three. That's what it seems to have been for a while now; three of us, so no more can I rely on just two plates for dinner, or two cups to drink from in the morning. No, now it is three and for a reason unknown to me, I find it hard to remember that number. I cautiously, to avoid the original problem of loving you, avoid even talking to you anymore. It seems long now, a long time since you and I were just together and working to restore the things I know I have forgotten. It seems a long time since the price you paid, saved me from constant whoring sessions just to pay for food. Never anymore, do I have to lay under heavy men, with protruding stomachs, and lay like a good boy. Never anymore do I have to fight against them, as some sick form of foreplay. I should be lucky, I should be happy but no, I'm not because I have to fight against this feeling for you and watch you smile, laugh and love someone so worthy of you.

Me? I am Draco of the prestigious Malfoy line. Me, whose birthday cannot be justified because I was born from dark magic, is just a broken form of all the things he once was. So I skim my way past ingredients, towards the staircase and to my bedroom to shun away from the laughter. I forgot again today; I forgot something I know I remember. You had that friend round, the one that smiles with wisdom and there is a faint recollection in my mind that you and her where once on the end of my sharp tongue. I just can't remember, even though you told me who she was.

"Draco!" I hear you call, wondering where I have disappeared to. The number is supposed to be three; one plate for the happy family that lives under this roof. I cannot be in a three; this forced twisted relationship. You have the best of both worlds, the best of me and the best of Calix and I want to cry because you destroy me. I don't even realise there is tears falling around me, because every time you said my name it would cut yet another piece of me.

I ignore the calls of my name and the protest from Calix. He wants you to leave me alone, which I thank him for silently, because he knows the upset rage from you and I will kick of any moment, like it always does. I slip into bed and wonder about all the things that have changed over the past few months. Christmas had come and gone, a crescendo of you and Calix and me being the only wrapping on your present which is life. My twenty seventh birthday had come and gone, leaving but a whisper on my life because none of the presents, or places you and Calix had taken me to could have been any use. It has nearly been ten years since I fell from the platform of prestige I was once on, and it has nearly been ten years since the time I became a whore, since the time I lost my virginity to some huge black wizard, who like small white boys. I would like to forget that, I really would.

I don't want to die yet though. I just want to be free and facing my problems on my death bed seems to be the way I am heading.

This morning I woke up, feeling liberated. The night before was spent with just me and Harry, cuddling up on the sofa talking about my past. I don't know how he managed to do it, but the hero complex in him managed to get my mouth working against the demons inside of me and I lit up like a bulb when I started. Thinking about it now makes me smile, as I stand making breakfast for Harry and I and something tells me my happiness is more due to Calix being on business for the next two weeks. I smile at that thought, because it doesn't hurt to think of some real time between me and Harry, and I cannot wait until the next time we get to talk like we did last night.

"Explain to me," He asked, "About what went on when you first became… like this." He had gestured with his hands, and briefly mentioned my obsessive re-sorting of the dish cloths. Indeed, I still was overly confident in doing almost everything for Harry yet I cannot deny his liberal attitude had changed me somewhat.

"The day after I was cursed," I explained, "I was sent by one of his minions to a place just outside London called Reading, where an illegal whorehouse for wizards of ill intent went to explore themselves." Harry looked engrossed in what I was saying, and even though hard for me to tell my story, I thought it best I did. The little house-elf in me had begun to serve his need to know, and I couldn't go against it even if I tried. "I was bought up that night, by an African man with a gruff voice. The price he paid was very little, as rumour had it that I was not a virgin and with no way to really prove that, I could only be sold off as yet another toy.

"It hurt and once he started it didn't stop. I begged for him to go slow, because he was hurting a virgin, but that only made him speed up… go so fast." I paused, breathing in Harry's smell for comfort. "In the day I served the guy who ran the place, but once he got fed up with me he sent me on to this old guy, who wanted a pretty boy on his arm whilst he travelled around Europe. At first it was lovely, because the man would dote on me giving me a taste of my old lifestyle, but soon it wasn't very happy. I thought at first he loved me, but when the fist connected with my jaw it was the first sign he didn't. I let him though, never trying to run away or fight back."

I breathed for a little while, looking at Harry with eyes of wonder, "Then, he sold me on once he got bored to…" I got scared as pent up memories came to me, "The next one was a man from England who kept me as a punch up doll. He threw me around like a rag doll, but kept me locked in a cupboard when ever his girlfriend came round, because the disgrace of me was to high for his 'pretty little thing to see'. Then, one day I met her…"

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"I don't want to talk about it just yet." I stated, because in reality I couldn't remember. It wasn't like I really couldn't remember, I just didn't want to.

Harry comes down, into the kitchen, his morning smile pulling me from my reverie. I notice not once have I had to look at the notes he has made for me, to help me along with my cooking and I feel so proud at having remembered how to do the small things like make eggs, sunny side up. Harry smiles directly at me, whilst ruffling his hair up with his beautiful hands and I smile back, and laugh. "Morning." He addresses and I tell him in a happy voice that I have succeeded to make this breakfast all on my own.

"Well done!" He tells me in a glorious, raspy voice which I remedy with a glass of orange juice that I pour expertly from its carton. I watch him drink, between me piling food on the plate, and I too reach out to take a sip from the glass he has just put down. He watches me do it, almost amused at my actions, before taking both plates of food to the table whilst I follow. I sit opposite him, eating small bites of wonderful food and I consider the possibilities of why I didn't stall once today.

"Hermione and Ron have invited us to lunch." He says after finishing his last bite, and I smile, because I can faintly remember the smell of the girl called Hermione, and there is an image in my head of a girl, who is way beyond her years in wisdom, standing, laughing, with Harry and the man I remember as Ron. The image though, is not a recent one and I know that from the robes the girl wears.

"It will be nice," I comment as I stand to clear empty plates off the table out of habit. Harry follows me, bringing other things from the table and in unison we begin to put them away, in their respective places or in the sink. The light coming through the conservatory's glass where the breakfast table is, adjacent to the kitchen, lights up the work we are indulging in and I watch the light illuminating the bubbles in the sink, and I pour thick green liquid into the water. Harry stands close to me as I begin washing up, and before he grabs the dish cloth he turns on the radio in the kitchen so no silence between us will be unbearable.

I push my hands into the warm water, rubbing the sponge over the plates to clean them. The china in my hands feels so solid yet breakable, and as I make this point the guitar solo on the radio washes the heat of Harry's eyes on me right through my body. I look over and smile, and because I recognise this song I begin to sing a little, handing him the plate I have rinsed so he can dry it and place it in the cupboard. The song changes, and moves around the mood in the room drastically, so much so that the recollection of this song breeds a sense of relation between the words to Harry.

"And what if you held the world in your arms?" I sing, my voice okay and strong compared to the previous that I sang. Harry stops moving and watches me, and I ignore his stare to keep cleaning and keep singing because I'm enjoying my mood today. It isn't like I never feel that things could go wrong, or I am worried that one day soon I will die because this moment, this small little moment will probably define the rest of my life because I will be able to think to myself 'I felt like that, right then and there'.

I place all the dishes on the drying rack, knowing that Harry has given up helping but I neither care nor want to complain because I know, I can feel that he is happy just watching me, which is making me happy. The song changes yet again, and I wonder how music can make time go so quick. It's poppy, but its making me want to move to the beat and something ignites inside of me, so that I move my hips before I grab the cloth out of Harry's hands, and dry the remaining objects. I move in a dance around the kitchen, putting things away and a laugh escapes Harry. I get bubbles on my hand which I flick at Harry, who immediately does the same back. "Hey! That's not fair!" I complain, but he does it again and its not long before we are in an all out bubble war.

"Your gonna get it!" Harry shouts after me as I run out of the room, and I hear him coming after me up the stairs. He is slightly growling, and my groin twitches at the sound he emits, and in turn to his noise I whimper; adrenalin I haven't felt since my last quidditch game runs through me. I run into my bedroom, slightly panting but before I can close the door, a bubble covered Harry runs in after me. He throws himself at me, and we go flying back onto my bed, all the bubbles rubbing together and fading and he's on top of me and laughing. I let myself laugh to, and wriggle because he is now tickling me, determined not to loose. School would have been so much easier if this was how it would have happened.

"Giving up?" He asks, the music from the kitchen following us up the stairs and into my room. Its hot, and heavy and the beat is pulsing over us wickedly, and for a moment I wriggle my hips in time to the music whilst shaking my head no. The movement from my hips lowers his reserves, and I am able to throw him off. I turn myself over, about to put my feet on the floor but the reflexes in Harry are way to defined, and he has he underneath him once again, pinning me down. The music seems louder against the silence we make, only the heavy breathing from Harry can be heard against the music. It's raspy and sensual and for any outsider to walk in it would seem that Harry and I are lovers.

He has me pinned at the wrists, and my heart is beating as he looks down into my eyes. I smile, because there is nothing else to do and I recognise the heavy breathing in me too. The music has be under it's spell, because I move my hips and anything else I can in time to it's beat, faintly feeling the rub of our bodies together and it feels good. Music, it makes time go so fast, especially when the songs are short, and it seems the continuous music has its own plan for me, as the most ironic song for our situation comes on. The singer cant really sing, but the words she uses fits my situation somewhat perfectly, 'I'm a, slave for you.' And I sing along, having previously heard the song a few times before.

Harry's watching me with interested eyes, but I can't help myself. It's seductive and I know it, and my movements are making him hard and I can feel it. Funnily though, we are still in the same position, and I wonder whether I should wriggle again. I don't, because the song finishes and we still haven't moved, so all I can do is look at Harry who seems so afraid, and interested and lustful.

"Say something Harry." I ask softly, because I'm scared of what this could be. He looks deep in me, releases my hands from his strong grip and pushes some hair out of my eyes.

"You quite often leave me without words, Draco."

_So, you guys really must hate me for not keeping up with the H/D pairing right. God, seriously, can you acctually stand so many stories where there is no struggle between the most volatile pairing of all? It makes it worth a read, dont you think? Anyway, it made me sad that I didnt really get any reviews on the last chapter, except one saying they thought my story was boring and were'nt going to read it anymore. _

_The Sad Ashes _


	12. For the first time that day

I open my mouth to reply, but I am cut short by his lips covering mine. His right hand tangles itself in my hair and the other moves down my side, clutching at my hip. He squeezes it gently, and the sensation runs right through me.

_It seemed so right at the time. He was just there, so beautiful and I couldn't resist the little movements or the happiness inside of him. I forgot the suppression because I had to give into that smile. There where no words left that I could say, just the little things mattered between us now._

The world is disappearing, because he is running his tongue over mine. I raise my hips up to meet his, and push a hand down his back onto the cheek he has tattooed. It feels so good in my hand, and I push him down so we meet in seductive arousal.

_It felt wrong then, when he responded so thoroughly to me, because I knew I was betraying myself and Calix all in one swift motion. I had promised myself not to be like this, that I wouldn't let him fall for me. I couldn't handle the responsibility of working through all our problems; seven years of utter detesting each other at school wouldn't fade in a day. _

He pulls off me, looking horrified. I open my eyes wide, because I know he has made a mistake. He stutters an apology, and I push back tears. Calix… Calix… Calix, he mutters and all I know to do is reach up to his quivering mass of lies and slap some sense into the heartless bastard. 'Fuck you!' I yell, and disappear into the bathroom to find a way out of this mess on my own.

_When he slapped me I was taken by the most of surprise. I wondered, as I sat on his bed, whether it was right to keep Draco around anymore. He obviously had feelings for me, and I couldn't allow myself to get into that destruction anymore, because everything between us had been so ruthless and morbid. Did I really want to go there again? Did I really want to subject Draco to this torture anymore? No…._

Knowing I have to come out of the bathroom sooner or later, I tentatively push the door open and make my way downstairs to find Harry. I search the study in hopeless attempt to waste time before I have to face him. My lips are still bruised from the most wonderful, horrible kiss I have ever had, and my hands are so sore from beating myself up in the rage I just experienced. I walk quietly into the kitchen, and what I see takes me back to a quivering boy. Harry is standing there, fuming, with luggage all around him. Someone else is in the background; the girl with the bushy hair and she smiles sadly at me. I ask what's going on, afraid that he might be leaving me all alone and when Harry responds, his voice is more frightening than any I have ever heard before.

There is nothing I can do but nod, accept and move to collect the baggage needing to be taken to the waiting car. It's my responsibility, and really the least I can do with the knowledge I now have.

_His face was a saddened wonder; his body moving in such disgust towards me that I should have broken down and changed the situation, and in defence of myself, there was nothing left that I could do. We had changed the way we lived, and broken the rules I thought I had laid down and the pretty destroyed version, of the wonderfully destructive Draco I once knew had done something to me, and I had to get rid of the effect. _

I turn to look at him, his gaze to the floor, and I grab the last of my belongings. "I love you, Harry…" I say quietly, knowing that he can hear me. He responds by looking up at me and he nods in recognition of my words. The name, his name, stings my tongue as it shakes with my jaw as I fight back tears. The girl I faintly remember tugs my arm, and I turn with her to leave my home. I feel stained by its presence now, and I feel empty knowing Harry is going off to stay with his lover; the word makes me sick now the feeling inside me bursts for him.

For the first time all day, I know yet again that I am going to die…

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_**Well, we are certainly coming near the end of the story. OoOo... YOU HAVE TO KEEP READING, Cause I promise the end is worthwhile...**_

_**And they kissed, eh? Thats always a good sign... I hope...**_


	13. Somethings missing

I knew I was a bastard; Merlin did I know that fact was true. It felt so weird to knock on the hotel door which would lead me to Calix, and so daring to even be there in the first place. I know he would hate me for arriving unexpected, but I felt like I had betrayed him horribly. Naively, I thought that telling him about my untoward deed would make the feeling go away, and what I didn't understand is why my stomach knotted as I stood in front of the white washed door. I rapped on the wood, gulping as I did so and suddenly there was the urge to just turn away from it all. Before I could cower away, the door opened and there stood a bright eyed Calix wrapped in a towel; the sight had no affect on me anymore.

"Harry?" He asked confused, before looking over his shoulder to the flickering television that adorned every Muggle hotel room. I nodded, and he made way for me to walk in.

"Are you alone?" I asked, not really caring if he told me no which seems funny now as the ten minutes before my decent into the unhappy person I was, in that room, I knew I loved the man now standing in front of me. Maybe the misdeeds had made me unsure.

"Of course I'm alone, Harry." He sat down on the bed, and gestured for me to do the same. I complied, but sat as far away as possible which he neither acknowledged externally, nor made a fuss over. I looked anywhere but at him, because his eyes asked to many questions I didn't feel like answering.

"I kissed Draco." I said suddenly, hoping the words would alleviate the pressure on my chest. I looked to Calix, who had an eerie smile on his handsome face. "Why is that a good thing?"

"Do you love him, Harry?" He asked me brightly, and I wanted to hit him with all my might just then, because the daring question didn't need to be asked.

"No!" I spat, and glared at him full force. "Why would that even cross my mind, you know I love you!" I was near shouting, my breathing hard and my fists clenched.

"Why not keep this to yourself then, because it must have been an awful kiss for you to pack your bags and find me?" He pragmatically asked, and for a second I was angry that anyone could consider a kiss from Draco awful. I shook my head, not really answering anything and demand characteristics had me apologising even though I felt no need to. "Shush, Harry…" Calix softly scolded me to silence, and he grabbed my chin so I could look up at him. "If you really love me, then the kiss meant nothing to you and that's okay."

"I do love you." I concurred, and he moved in to wipe away my wrong doings with his own special kiss. His towel fell away, my body moved back and he smiled as we undid and removed all the clothes from me. It felt good, to be manipulated by another persons body in the way that he did to me, because after to many years denying myself the treat of it I think I really needed it.

I just wished that the kiss I shared with Draco wouldn't have ruined the moment, because every time I closed my eyes he was there, and every time they were open I wished he was there.

At first I thought Lincoln city to be a bore, because of the little people compared to London but I was wrong. Everything was so tight knit around the small city and at night there was raw life; if you didn't participate in it, you couldn't be in it. Something about the youthful bustle that over-took what could quite easily be a sleepy town, made me feel the better half of twenty again.

Calix wined and dined me at some pretty good places whilst we were in Lincoln, but there wasn't the same sparkle in our romance as there was before Christmas. I came to believe that my suppression of feeling with Draco, had caused the necessity to be loved by someone else and my own selfish desire had led me to lead on both boys in my life. Guiltily, I let Calix spend his evenings lavishing me in gifts and kinky sex, knowing that the moments passed so fast for him and so slow for me. The only time I was really happy, was when I was on my own exploring the city or when Calix had fallen asleep and I was left with my own thoughts. I ignored the nagging feeling that Draco was not okay, but this was the longest time I had ever spent away from him since the day I bought him, and I put all my anxiety down to that.

I hadn't given Hermione any details about where I might be staying, nor the fact that I was leaving because I didn't want my repair time with Calix to be upset by Hermione's worries about Draco. I don't know why I decided to send him away to hers, with no intent of having him back, but I guess it was so he was close to home. Having never had much in my life, I get rather sappy about letting things go especially if I never think I can have them back. I'm just petty like that.

On the last night that Calix and I were to be in Lincoln, he took me to a fifties style restaurant just outside the city. We talked whilst waiting for our table, sitting by the bar and loading up on alcohol. A voice overhead addressed our table was waiting, and I drifted through a sea of faces, behind Calix, to our private booth. Sitting down felt good on my overtly happy state, and my grin was met with excited eyes to which I felt nervous at looking. It was a good night, because I was drunk and a good night because the alcohol could strip me of a feeling I wished to forget.

In the taxi to our hotel, I could feel a sense of tension between me and Calix, which we tried to remedy with petty small talk and inane drunk laughter. I was so bored by that point, that when the taxi stopped I hopped out immediately in an attempt to break the stupidity between us. I just couldn't see, after my wrong doings, that I loved the man who stood before me. I just was upset with myself, and I didn't think I deserved Calix any longer because of my idiocy.

In the hotel room, as we got into bed, Calix looked over at me and I knew a question was brewing in his head. I waited patiently, before he opened his mouth: "We need to talk…"

"Okay," I replied dutifully, "What about?"

"I don't think I'm right for you anymore," He started and I opened my eyes in fright, "Tomorrow will be our last day together."

"Of course your right for me!" I protested, "I love you, Calix, why wouldn't you be right for me?" I thought I was going to cry, but the burning sensation was my own denial at the back of my throat. I was angry at him for concluding my thoughts, and the trains passing by that I could hear weren't helping me relax. Merlin damn the world, and all its façade.

"Harry, you haven't ever loved me, or been in love with me."

"That is rubbish, after all this time?" I asked, confused at why he was being so harsh with me.

"The kiss with Draco was just the ending for us, and more or less the beginning of you realising the whole time you have been in love with him." I looked aghast, because he was being so wrong.

"Honestly, you think I love Draco?" I laughed in the hilarity of it all.

"If you didn't, then why do you often sneak out the bed we shared, to share a bed with him? Why did you so easily fall asleep, him in your arms, on the sofa together whilst when we were anything close to intimate, shuffle about and move away so quickly. If you loved me Harry, why do you look at him like he is the be all and end all of your life?"

"I just am scared for him, because he such a shattered person." I responded, sitting up defiantly because the man in bed with me had gone completely mad. I wouldn't and couldn't look at the face of someone insane, which Calix definitely was to suggest such silly things. It hurt to be asked the question which would lead to the suppression of a desire I really did have for Draco, but there was one thing I did not do: love Draco.

"And you think I'm not shattered?" He asked angrily, "I told you about my parents Harry: They died at my hands, because I was silly to lead a friend that supported Voldemort into my house, I told you about the times my best friend touched me inappropriately, I told you about the four months I spent whoring myself because there was no money to eat from. I showed you the scars from my godparents, who stabbed me in an attempt to kill me and you think I'm not shattered? You think I don't _remember_?" He was shouting by this point, and that was all I could take. He was comparing himself to Draco, who had seen so much more than this boy ever had. All of us who had experienced the effect of the war were damaged goods; we all shared the knowledge that war is not fair on the body, mind or soul.

"I never said you weren't shattered," I defended lamely.

"You implied it Harry. For Gods sake, can you not see I am giving you the chance to actually experience love first hand?"

"What if I don't want to?" I asked, launching myself out of bed to magic up my belongings. It was my last kick, because if I didn't do it the rage inside would over take the room or implode on me. "What if for once in my life I don't want to be left raw?"

"You are to selfish, and yet so selfless it's confusing!" Calix yelled, he too now standing. I didn't reply, because there was nothing left to say. This man didn't want me, and he was using the only thing he could to get rid of me, which hurt. I dressed in front of his watchful eyes, and left without a backwards gaze; I knew when I wasn't wanted.

My home was awash with blinking signs and white envelopes. I could sense the magical signature of Hermione on the front door, and my floo counter had registered over twenty unanswered fire calls from her house. I shuddered, remembering the eerie feeling that something was wrong with Draco, ignite back in me. I picked up the mail from the front hall, and turned on the lights in the living room. Sitting down, I felt relieved to be in the comfort of my own home, but there was something missing which I put down to being alone for the first time in months.

It was quiet now, without a breath of music or whimpering from Draco or the humble sense from Calix. I didn't move from the sofa for a while, instead opted for just sitting against the silence of my house trying to instil faith back into the solitary breeze. I wasn't as angry now, because the long apparation had knocked the wind out of my fuming, long enough for me to forget the initial response to Calix' words of insanity.

Time ticked on, and I looked to the clock to see it one am. I decided to fire call Moony, because my restlessness could ease his insomnia for a while. I moved into the study, towards the fire place and threw some green powder into it. I watched the merry sparks light up, and popped my head in. Shouting the address brought me straight into Moony's study, where he was sitting gazing into the fire. He gave a start at my face, "Harry!" He yelped.

"Hey Moony!" I said back, cheery.

"Where have you been?" He asked concerned, and I cocked an eyebrow at him in question, because Moony really never checked up on me, nor was worried when I disappeared off the face of the earth for a few days.

"Lincoln." I responded dryly.

"Harry, everyone has been in search of you!" He exclaimed, and I wondered why no one got in touch with Calix, to ask of where I might be as most knew of our relationship. I left the thought to be explored later. "You have to go straight to Hermione's, Harry. I should be the one to tell you this, but Draco's gone missing."

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**We are really near the end of the story now guys! Come on, give me reviews and fuel my ego!**


	14. Ginny and Theo

Weeping as I enter the house, I look around the room in distaste, my breathe sucking inwards in sharp mode. The girl, Hermione, looks at me sharply, her face scowling at my rudeness but this is the way I have always done it, and I see no reason to stop now! I really though, am a barrel of nerves at my new situation, that coursed through my body in a heat wave. "Calm down, Draco!" Hermione instructed, and I shudder at the feeling the order gives. I haven't felt like this for a long time and I'm immediately turning away to stifle my distaste for the surroundings.

"I will take you to your room," She directs to me, and motions for me to follow, "Where you can settle in. If you want to sleep, do so because I know you have had an emotional day." She's ordering me to stay out of her way, I know because I don't look as sad on the outside as feel on the inside. It's a trick I learned, so people wouldn't think I was weak. Naturally, years spent in horrid prostitution has left me scarred, and carved into a little fragile boy. I'm so tame today, because the days before it left me bitter and cold to the world.

My room I can see, is neat and tidy beyond belief. I can see in Hermione's eyes, as she tells me the rules of the house, that she means s business. It's okay, because I can naturally abide to rules set before me; I was a house elf before the curse. Having Lucius Malfoy as your father can do that too you. On her way out she turns back, to give me a small smile of welcome, and I hear the door click softly to signal I'm all alone.

Not bothering to unpack, I slide onto the small bed and close my eyes, sleep a wave of merry dreams collapses my reflexes for the next five hours and when I wake again, I know the rest of the house is asleep. There isn't much else for me to do, than sit up and work this out in my head.

XxXxX

Hermione's house smells sickly, of roses and lilacs which to my knowledge don't really mix. The perfume she wears is a tide of sweetness, which contrasts with my memory of a happy Harry who smelt dirty, sexy and seductive. "We are having lunch with some family today, you are welcome to join us." Hermione tells me in a matter of fact tone, and I smile at how straight forward this woman is. I nod my head in recognition of her words, and move to tidy the small kitchen up from breakfast which has added a bitter smell to the air.

"Why did you never have children?" I ask casually, as it's my right to be curious about this new owner of mine. She smiles and zones away from the world, and when she speaks it's airy.

"I just couldn't have children, why do you ask?"

"You seem like a woman who would want hundreds of children," I reply in honesty, "It's sad that you can't."

When lunch rolls around, the whole day has shook in a wave of glorious solitude and I'm very aware as I sit in the lounge waiting to be introduced, that a black cloud on my passivity is about to let down it's rain. The oncoming questions about my life might just be a little too much to bear, but somehow I will find a way to do it, like I always have done. I hear Hermione's voice out in the hall, talking to a very merry woman and a man with a deeper voice than Ron's. Something in the sound brings up a memory, but the little sample of this person has not been registered enough for the memory to be anything but a blur. The front door opens again, and I hear Hermione and the other two guests step around, and more happy voices greet each other. I smile at the cosiness of it all, and stand ready to be greeted. The first people into the room are Hermione, and a woman who resembles the young woman very much. "This is Molly Weasley," Hermione addresses, and politely I shake the woman's hand, "And this is her husband, Arthur." The couple look old and worn and I guess the war had that damaging effect on both of them. They look very much like Ron and I smile at my sense of recognition.

Behind that were two identical men, who had huge grins and eyes made for mischief, which I found amusing and then behind them was a young girl, who resembled the twins, and a man with dark hair and the smell of musky cologne. "This is Ginny," Hermione addresses, and the girl looks at me with wide, scared eyes, "And her fiancé-" I cut them off with: "Theodore."

Everyone looks at me surprised, as I cradle my head and collapse to the floor in agony of the up-surfacing memories. In my head I see myself being tossed into a wall by magic, and on my knee's in front of the girl, Ginny, weeping my apologies as she points her wand at my head. I know on the outside I'm screaming, because the inside is burning the sound to my everything. "What's wrong?" Hermione asks, as she kneels down next to me, able to shake me out of my internal atmosphere.

I look up, in agony as my eyes readjust, and I catch a glimpse of Ginny and Theodore trying to walk away. "I don't remember how to shave." I say, my voice a thousand hurts and a bruised lip because of those people, "I don't know how to do my zipper up, or pour orange juice," Everyone in the room is looking between me, Ginny and Theodore and they don't know whether to be amused or concerned. I continue, "I don't remember Hermione, or how to magic things for my own use. I don't remember my mother, who was the only fucking one there for me!" I yell, because the looks on their faces just aren't doing it for me. I stand, so I tower over most of the occupants in the room, and when I speak again my voice is loud and threatening. "I do remember you, Ginny and Theo, who liked to toss me about like a fucking toy, I do remember how you locked me in a cupboard, to afraid that I might disgrace the light of day. I remember you two starved me, beat me, stabbed me," For emphasis, I take off my shirt and show them the scars, just in case they don't believe.

"You let me run around for so long, in the abyss of a child's minds and yet you have the heart to come here, prance about like your innocent?" I have nothing left to say, my liberation is falling flat on my ears, and they look so dumbfounded it might break my skin with rage. "You let me remember Harry, why?"

Molly and Arthur stare in shock at their daughter, and something inside me clicks with gratitude that they can do that. "What's going on, Ginerva?" Arthur asks.

"They," I interrupt, "Tortured me, obliviated me and expected me to just live with it. Then they sold me on to a rapist, who made me watch his horrid deeds!" Molly gasps, and the twins move away from their little sister. "But they were the worst owners, because they enjoyed every minute of it!" I know I'm going to far, but there isn't much else I can do now.

"Is this true?" Molly asks, and surprisingly Ginny nods, knowing there are potions and spells to get one to tell the truth. Funny thing is, that she and her fiancé can now spend the rest of their lives in Azkaban together, and I know everyone else is thinking about that, because suddenly the tone which was here before has disappeared.

I walk past, in my most threatening manner, the group of people and professionally I sneer at Ginny and Theo. Cowering, they back up against the wall, letting me stalk to my bedroom to disappear for the time alone I want. Halfway up the stairs and I can hear all hell breaking loose. I smile, because they deserve it, but somehow I wish it didn't have to come from family.

My bags lay near untouched on the floor by the bed, and without thinking I grab them. My heart stops with one thought: Harry, and I put my belongings down to search for a piece of paper and a pen. Once found, I jot down a quick note to Harry, and turn to leave the wretched sweet smelling house, passing on my way out a mass of angry, saddened people that don't even know I'm going not recognise the fact I intend to leave.

But once I'm out that door my whole life is free, and there is only one place I know to go.

* * *

**Its no use when you dont know where he's gone. But ahh... I'm thinking two more chapters till the end so you will find out... Thank you too all reviewers, and to those anon. people who leave me notes THANK YOU! I appriciate it!**

**Ashes**


	15. Is that still you?

"He's at a friends." I concluded. Hermione looked relieved, whilst Ron looked like his whole family had been torn apart, which I couldn't understand as it was only Draco to go amiss. "I'm gonna go find him, will you guys be okay?"

Ron nodded slowly, and Hermione looked as if she was going to protest. I shook my head no at her actions, but she still took it upon herself to interfere; "Harry, if he is at a friends he is probably asleep, it's too early in the morning. Just go home and rest for a while." Damn It, I thought, Hermione is always right. I nodded and took my leave, resting all my hopes of finding Draco safe on my shoulder for the time being. Even though Hermione was right, I knew there was something really wrong with Draco and I needed to find him.

Sleep came easier than I thought it would, the glide of my body as it sunk into my sheets compelled me to waste a few hours in sleep, which I abided to dutifully with my mind as sore as it was. I barely thought of either Calix or Draco the whole time I rested, my mind to raw with both of their antics that I couldn't be in the slightest bit bothered to remedy my situation with thoughts of them.

Upon awakening, I was met with a sea of sunshine, ghosting over my bed in happy waves. I nearly killed the feeling it gave, because things just weren't right, and I knew instinctively that there was something different with Draco, something that hadn't been there before. I pushed myself out of bed, my feet landing on the carpet with a thud, before I pushed myself up to get dressed. My hands shook on the buttons of my shirt, the realisation that all was adrift in my life crashing through my nerves, my trousers coming up my legs emotionlessly. There I was, in desperate attempt to change a situation I didn't really care for in the beginning, and looking back now I think I believed having Draco back would seal the wounds left by Calix. I thought that my life was defined by Draco, and that I loved Calix when Draco was there and if I had him back things might be different.

I looked into my mirror, and nodded at my normal reflection. I could pull this off; I could find Draco and save him and in turn save myself. I knew I was lonely in the thought process, and that my house didn't sound quite right and Merlin I just wanted that fixed. When I got downstairs, I grabbed the note that Draco had left for me and watched his handwriting float through my eyes; it said no location of where he was but somehow I just knew that he was where this all began. The Malfoy manor had been vacant ever since Draco left it, and as far as I knew, the house was still in his name. It was quite a way to travel, but nothing was a deterrent to that fact.

He had said he was at friends, but believing that would be no use as the man was tricky and unpredictable when he wanted to be; Merlin only knew how quick the curse would rip him apart now he had disobeyed its rules. I fled from my house, intent on running all the way to the nearest apparation spot, so I could portkey to Wiltshire in attempts to find Draco, but upon opening the door I was met with the tired face of Kingsley Shacklebolt. His dark skin was slightly greying, and his smile slowly fading and I was surprised to hear his voice cracking. "Harry, the Ministry requires you assistance."

"I can't Kingsley," I protested, "I have to go find someone!" I made to push past him, but there was no possible chance as he had gripped hold of my shoulder.

"Yes… you're looking for Draco, we know. Right now he is safe, we have found him but you need to come and help us capture Ginny."

I loosely stepped back, my mouth agape. "Ginny?" I questioned, "Why are we looking for her?" I wondered what mischief the young woman had gotten into. Kingsley shook his head at me, knocking the light hearted feel out of me.

"She is wanted for the misuse of memory modification, the unfair torture of a Wizard and consorting with criminals." I must have looked confused, because the face of Kingsley said I wasn't quite getting what he was saying. Kingsley sighed, "Ginny and her boyfriend tortured Draco, modified his memory and other things she shouldn't have done!"

I knew I hadn't been feeling right! I knew I wasn't just a foolish nit! There had been something wrong with Draco and that's what it was… but oh, I couldn't comfort the blonde. Instead I was being shipped off to find a criminal. "I'll go, but when do I get to see Draco?" I asked.

"At the trial, until then he is being kept in solitary care." Kingsley replied, before he let me gather some stuff. I followed him dutifully, shutting the door behind me and reeling in the soft click of the lock.

AxAx

I barely acknowledged the weeping Weasleys on my way into the courtroom, and neither did they raise their heads to greet me. I couldn't care right then, as we were all in our own worlds that day. My world was to see Draco alive and safe, after all these months away from each other. Another of my reasons to ignore the Weasleys, was Hermione had recently stopped to see me, where she found the time to question me over my supposed apparent love for Draco. It was true that I did love him; I just didn't love him in that way.

I sat in my designated seat, shuffling slightly as my presence was being noted by every official eye in the building. It was such a circus when I showed up anywhere, because I was the fame to apply yourself too, and I knew dramatics would be at an all time high in court because I was there.

People began filing in all over the place, and soon I felt not so exposed to the world. The judging minister looked over the collective persons, and the bailiff nodded for all respective parties to sit down. I felt relieved to see Ron smile at me from across the room, because I didn't want them to think I was the cause of this; I was in a way though.

"We are called today, by the Ministry of Magic, to witness the incarceration of Ms. Ginny Weasley and Mr. Theodore Knott, for the crimes as follows: Misuse of Memory Modification, one hundred counts. Abuse and Torture, two hundred counts. Consorting with Dark Wizards, five counts. The Murder of Samuel Hill and Lucy White." Molly Weasleys weeping could be heard all over the room, and the soft hushes from her step daughter were heard as a comforting gesture to everyone present, not just Molly. The judging Minister raised a hand, whispered a few words before looking directly at Ginny, who paled in significance to the bright light of the room. "Miss Weasley, can you step forward to the plea post?" Ginny nodded and looked around the room nervously, which is where I caught the signs of truth in her eyes. Accordingly, the Ministry had laced Ginny with Veritaserum in order for her to truthfully comply with every question she may be asked. I could see fear in her eyes, whilst I knew the feeling of ice shoot through her, as she realised the one thing that had kept her from incarceration was now eradicated: her lies.

Ginny stepped up the to the post, where she placed her hands gently on the wood. My thoughts were running a mile a minute by now, as I saw her quivering. I could have told anyone that Ginny was a suppressed, small girl had they of listened, but everyone had her pinned for a very sweet tomboy. Sitting there, looking at her shivering, I couldn't understand why it escaped me, during my sixth year of Hogwarts, that there was that obvious malicious streak in Ginny. I kissed her, held her and by Merlin did I spend time with that girl, and she always scared me a slight bit with her playful punches, but I always put it down to her being the only girl in the Weasley clan. I sighed softly, as I looked at Molly prepare herself adequately.

"Miss Weasley, are you aware of the terms you are being sentenced for?" The judging Minister looked heavily at the young woman, who opened her mouth slowly and gasped.

"I was brainwashed!" Ginny shrieked, and I almost laughed as I watched her recoil in pain as the truth vice, she now had wrapped around her, reprimanded her for such behaviour. I remembered that feeling.

"I will ask you again, Miss Weasley. Are you aware of the charges you are being sentenced for?" The Ministers voice was cold and tired. Ginny stood stock still and opened her mouth slowly. Inside her head, I knew, she was trying to word her answer in her favour, but like anyone under the spell of Veritaserum you become like a text book: Informing factually and precisely.

"For the misuse of memory modification, for torture and abuse, for consorting with criminals and for the murder of Lucy White." Ginny was monotonous when she answered, and I was angry as her then because it was officially true that she had abused Draco. I wanted to strangle Ginny.

"How do you intend to justify your actions, Miss Weasley?" I listened to the wording of the question, knowing that any Minister would trick the criminal into telling every dirty secret. Ginny answered quicker this time.

"I was trying to kill off the enemy."

"And who exactly are the enemy, Miss Weasley?" The Minister asked quick, which I reasoned as his tactic to get the interrogation over quickly. I silently rooted the Minister, my eye forever floating over to Molly to check how she was handling everything.

"The Death Eaters." Ginny concluded. Rage inside of me shot through the roof, and I could almost sense my emotions shake the chair next to me. It couldn't occur to the pathetic girl, standing on her own in front of her future, that Draco Malfoy was not a Death Eater? It sickened and horrified me, that someone I grew up with and was in my inner circle and someone who knew the rules set down on the side that lived to eradicate the Death Eaters, could go against such rules. I was pissed that Ginny betrayed me, most of all.

"Are you aware that there is laws against the acts you have committed?"

"Yes."

"That protect even the bad, so the government can punish them as we see fit? In the best interests of the Magical and Muggle community?"

"I was aware." Ginny breathed in slowly, her back moving upwards, before she looked over to Molly.

"You say you wished to kill Death Eaters, are you aware that Lucy White was a Muggle, who did not have access to the information of this world?" The whole room gasped, as the judge let that piece of information slip.

"Yes, I was aware."

"Why did you kill Lucy White?"

"The act was a split decision because she witnessed Theodore Knott kill Samuel Hill. I killed her to cover up his act."

The judge nodded, probably already knowing the truth about the case. I wondered what pulled Ginny into her horrid world, and what could have caused her to do the things she did. _I think, suddenly, as to why I sit here writing this. It confuses and excites me as my pen runs over the page, ink spilling slightly on my fingertips. Ideas are such a wonderful thing, when you have the power to put them into order. I have waited for the sun to shine so long._

"Which criminals did you consort with, Miss Weasley?" The Minister asked softly. I looked over to the shuffling of Theodore, which I had previously ignored. He was bound and gagged, which frightened me with a tingle up my spine.

"Harriet Malfoy and Dante Arteneno."

"For which purposes?"

"To gain information on the whereabouts of Draco Malfoy."

"Did you ever commit anymore crimes, other than the ones you are charged with?"

"Underage magic."

The Minister looked quizzically at Ginny, and sighed. "Wipe that from the record." He said before dismissing the weary version of my first, real girlfriend. Molly choked on a sob somewhere along the line, and all heads turned away from the broken mother. I watched as Theodore Knott came to the post, his gag removed but his bounds still tight, and the smell of dark magic wafted through my senses. It was poison to my grace, such pollution clogging my head with anger. _I smell you on the air around me, lighting the grey that's left in my skies. I'm dizzy and aching, currently battling the effects of a silence I fought for to long. I'm dying, like the flowers in the wind and it's all because I stayed silent for so long. If only you had come to my rescue earlier, then the life I lead wouldn't have been so tainted by my feeble attempts to cover my problems._

"Theodore Knott," The Minister addressed, "Are you aware of the charges you are here being sentenced for?"

"Misuse of memory modification, consorting with dark wizards, murder and torture and abuse of one Draco Malfoy." Suddenly I became aware that Theo had done this before. Unlike Ginny, who was totally void of any adlibbing or connection to her feelings, Theo was turning the truth into his own statement.

The judge looked unhopeful, and weary. I knew he must have been on this case for many months, spending his own time on the interrogation of these filthy idiots. I wondered where Draco was, where he might be alone and frightened of his impending confessions. _Time alone can be a good thing, I think. So much time with you caused my head to blur a little, thinking of every romantic thing that life could bring. I wished I could bring it all to you, lavish you in all the treats you deserve. I had become so dependant on us, that I forgot what it was like to be me. Time alone can be a good thing._

I must have zoned out, because I was aroused from my reverie by the court in uproar. The Minister looked aghast and Ginny was holding her hand to her mouth, her eyes watery yet void of emotion. I knew then that the cow was only guilty for betraying herself, and for not causing harm on others. What a bitch she had become. My thoughts were verified when the Minister next spoke. "Repeat what you just said, for the record, Mister Knott."

"My actions were committed as the last order from my Lord, Voldemort." I opened my eyes wide, in horror of the irony of both Draco's and Theodore's situation. _Voldemort sounds like such a funny name now. I'm sitting here, with paper, writing out that name with a smile on my lips. What an idiot. And for the record, everyone was cursed by his presence. _They were both under the spell of Voldemort in different, horrible ways.

"In a previous interview, you showed great obsession with Draco Malfoy. Are you obsessed with him, Mister Knott?" The Ministers eyes had turned cold again.

"Yes." The answer was drawled. _And I'm obsessed with you._

"Why?"

"Because I love him."

"Do you think it is okay to hurt people that you love?" Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ginny cry, her bottom jaw shaking with the vibrations of truth. I knew the feeling well, the ribcage near breaking from the chemical reaction one feels from betrayal. I hoped that she now felt at least sorry for someone else, but in her eyes was the ultimate confession of self indulgence and importance.

"I was ordered to kill Draco by my Lord." Theodore suddenly strained his neck backwards, nearly going over the whole way. _My eyes nearly burst as a sunbeam hits me. I wonder where it has come from, but pay no heed to the infuriating sunshine that hurt my tired eyes. _Gasping, he tried his best to ignore the icy hand of truth grip him, and I could almost feel the same clutch around my head as he did. "He never paid me any attention! He hated me! He didn't notice me!" Theodore shouted, seemingly all at once but decipherable none the less. _I think I can hear your voice somewhere, but the muffled sounds keep confusing me. _

"Is this your way of revenge, because he hurt your feelings?"

"Yes!" Theodore shouted out painfully, and I wished he wouldn't keep denying the inevitability that was his fate. It hurt to watch him like that, because I knew what it felt like. _I hated you once._

"Why did you kill Samuel Hill?"

"He was the first person to sleep with Draco." Theodore's voice was strained and gravely now. I recognised the story; the guy who used the poor blonde for his own sick desire.

"Why did you commit memory modification, unauthorised, on Mister Malfoy?"

"Because I wanted him to forget some of the things he has been through. I thought that if I could get him so weak, he would die faster because no one would love him." _And there is that feeling, that feeling of despair. No beams of sunlight can rest here, in my head, as I sit here alone. _"But I cannot speak for Ginny, she has her own reasons."

The Minister turned to Ginny, whose eyes went void and wide in fear. "What were your reasons for the misuse of memory modification, on Draco Malfoy?"

"I was told he was evil. I was told that he needed punishment for being evil."

"Do you both realise the implications of your torture?"

"Yes." They both answered in sloppy unison.

Molly choked again, and my attention was diverted for a moment before shuffling around the room began again. _Cold with no wind around_. I look left and right, but still I keep a careful sense on Molly. After all, she was nearly my mother by adoption and something inside of me wished she was, had it not of hindered my enjoyment of exploring Ginny when I was into girls. To the left, at the front where the Minister is, a short man came running out of a side door in worry. I opened my eyes wide, because I could sense high adrenalin on the man. _I'll shut my eyes for a while, I think, because time passes fast in the mass production of truth spilling. The sky may be battling between blue and grey, but today is my birthday and I will shut my eyes if my needs should be met. _To the right of me is a wall, with paintings that reflect the pandemonium now going on in the courtroom.

They are all whispering about the sudden unconsciously form of Draco Malfoy, who had been awaiting his return to the outside world. Apparently, from the whispers, Draco's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed right outside the small door that the short man had come through. "Shit." I muttered.

And then a breeze of slow time fell upon the room in silence, as the Minister stood to assess the situation. "It would be no good for the prime witness to fall dead!" I heard someone behind me whisper. I froze in the silent breeze then.

I thought to stand up and rush to Draco. I thought to stop this parade of criminals and kill the lot of them for bringing Draco to such measures. I thought I might be overreacting and I looked to Molly once again. She was sobbing quietly, occasionally glancing at a whisper of her daughter.

When time returned to normal, I was sitting stock still. "Bring Mister Malfoy forward." Ordered the newly sitting Minister, who glanced my way. I gulped, and looked thickly at the oak door, where Draco might return from. He was alright, that I knew and it came to pass that he suddenly looked great too. He walked through the doors in arrogance, and it scared me heavily. _Thank Merlin, I'm still here. _He shone in the faint beam of light that came through the window. It was a funny thing, Veritaserum, because the ingredients had healing affects as well as honesty inducing strengths. It didn't matter how though, it just mattered that he was there. _A shut eye crescendo and it's no noise that wakes me up now. _

"Mister Malfoy, are you aware that you are here to testify against Ginerva Weasley and Theodore Knott?" The Minister addressed.

"Yes." Again, there was personalisation in the tone given from Draco. It was silky and smooth and I wondered with a pang in my heart what might have happened to him these last few months. In his eyes, his wonderful eyes, he was scared and experiencing fatigue. _Tired from not seeing you, and now the romance might be forgotten for a while. It's only the writing on the book of memories that relates me now to you, but there you always are in my mind. _

"Have you been listening to the justification of both parties you are testifying against?"

"Yes." _I wonder if you watch me, here all on my own. _

"Do you believe that Mister Knott and Miss Weasley are justified in their actions against you and others?"

Draco sounded so kind, so arrogant and so full of himself when he spoke, "I do not. However much Theo might love me, I do not thing love is important enough to end someone else's life. It is true that I was a whore and a slave, but I accepted my fate and it was mine to deal with and leaving the fact I was forced to solicit sex was my decision, Theo had no business interfering in such an irrational way."

"You were sold to both Muggles and Wizards, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Your first place of residence, after the curse Voldemort placed on you took affect, was a in a Wizarding district of Reading, correct?"

"Yes."

"Then, how come a Muggle paid for you?" I felt unease at the wording the Minister used, and saw that reflected in Draco's eyes. _We are not where we were before. _

"I was told that I didn't deserve a Wizard. They needed the money though, the whorehouse that is, and would gain that in anyway they could."

"Could you explain to me the curse you were placed with?" The Minister sounded caring when he asked that of Draco, but still the blonde tensed. _I'm tense in remembrance. _

"On my eighteenth birthday, Voldemort cursed me with a sentence to slavery with a ten year time limit to find true love, otherwise I would die." Shit. _Shit. _Whispers were everywhere but my eyes stayed firmly on Draco.

"What day is your birthday, Mister Malfoy?"

"Today, the fifth of June." I gasped. Everyone gasped. _Like winds whispers wailing. _

"And have you found love, Mister Malfoy?" It was the question on everybody's lips. I could feel it, I could hear it, _I can still hear it, I can still feel it._

_I feel you behind me, by instinct. Was I that stupid ever? Was I always in love? Could it have been that the first time I saw you, I just knew that there would be a day where I confessed my love for you to the whole world? Madame Malkin will turn in her grave as we feel each others magical pulses merge to one, because Merlin knows the woman never forget our spat with each other. The whole world turned it's head when I repeated for the papers what I had said that day, I can remember it heavily. The taste of the bitter words said in the courtroom taint my lips, sting my ears and shoot my skin with goose bumps. I look to the sky, the beams settling down scarcely and I remember there is never a beam of light in Heaven. _

"_Happy Birthday, Harry." You call from behind me, and I stop my hand from returning to writing my memoirs. My story, on paper. I smile because your behind me, a colourful blonde with his own story to tell._

"_Morning…" I breathe deeply, your hands around my body so quick. I know my early mornings disturb you, but recently it's becoming hard to sleep with the knowledge that soon I will marry you and make us official to the world. I often come out here to think, and thinking I have been doing. So much damn thinking, so much recollection of times gone._

"_What you doing?" You ask me softly, your mouth near my ear. You kiss it tenderly, your forgotten past no barrier between us now. My suppression of emotion no fault except to me, who deals with our problems accordingly._

"_I'm thinking about writing a biography, you know? The real boy who lived!" I laugh, and look down at the essay I have written about my life so far. Somehow, remembering the past five years is easier that remembering my childhood, but so be it. _

_You laugh with me and the breath you breathe is a devil against my ear. I want you to sit on my lap and fuck me, as I sit at the table that's in our garden. Our garden, our life, our happiness. "Your not dead yet, Harry. Why not leave that till there is nothing left to do?"_

_I reply hastily, "I want to get it started now, so I don't forget. I was thinking about asking Luna to help me?" I want your opinion, because I love you. Such love, such romance and such honesty between us now that it becomes a little hot headed sometimes. Never mind, I still want your opinion. _

"_Well, darling if you want to then go for it!" Your still so young and were so un-supressed now. I'm free, your free._

_But one more question, because it bugs me a little to not ask it. If I didn't I might marry you not knowing and I want to know everything about you. "After all of it, from the first day we met, till right now… is that still you Draco, or have you changed because of me?"_

_You smile at my insanity. Of course it's still you and I'm a daft idiot, totally in love with the man on my lap, kissing me incessantly. _

_And to that little thing that listens to my thoughts, you should know that Draco was rather much free from his curse the moment I tugged up his jeans and accepted him into my home. He is, after all, my silly mewling kitten. After all, he is and always has been and is still, my Draco._

_**Well, this took me two hours to write. I should be doing homework, but never mind that, I can blag it I'm sure. I know there may be many unanswered questions about this fic, and you're free to ask them but bear in mind that this story has been written as such because I wanted it to be and I'm not sure I know how to answer them. **_

_**I have had the best time writing this fic, it has been one of my most explorative pieces and it's certainly defined a writing style for me. I hope you guys have enjoyed it as much as me. I hope you guys understand it. **_

_**Thank you to all my reviewers, my boyfriend and my life; without you I wouldn't be able to write from the heart. So much of me is in this, and my ego certainly needed all of you to keep this going. Thank you.**_

_**The Ashes of Stars: Tisha…**_


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